Photography
by EloraVashara
Summary: "Erik wasn't entirely sure as to how he'd come to be in this position, but he wasn't about to complain." XMFC, Erik/Charles, fluff, slash. Set during the training montage at the mansion.


AN: So, this was inspired by ***proving-my-existence**'s picture on dA: http:/ proving-my-existence. deviantart. com/art/X-MenFirstClass-Nap-Time-212495804?q= boost%3Apopular%20erik%20charles&qo=45

Just take out the spaces! It was adorable, and a fic idea was spawned, so I took an hour and a half to type it out (even though I should be busy cleaning, why does this keep happening to me?). It is, of course, Erik/Charles, and set sometime during the training montage in the movie. It's basically FWP (That's "Fluff Without Plot") just because I felt like writing it. Hope you enjoy, and any and all flames will be stored and used to roast the delicious marshmallows I'll be enjoying next week :) Review if you have a moment, please!

PS – This is unbeta'd, so any and all mistakes are mine, and if you see any glaring errors, let me know? (Also, I don't own X-Men. Or Erik. Or Charles. *sob*)

**Photography**

By Elora Vashara

Erik wasn't entirely sure as to how he'd come to be in this position, but he wasn't about to complain. The afternoon had begun innocently enough, with Charles reading some book on genetics on one end of the leather couch, and Erik sitting on the other end, legs crossed as he manipulated a chunk of metal, shaping and stretching it into various designs. He'd sneaked glances of Charles when he was sure the man was engrossed in his reading, secretly adoring the way his brow furrowed in thought, the way he mouthed the words of some sentences as he pondered their concepts. Sometimes Erik caught him pulling his rosy lower lip into his mouth, sucking on it briefly before letting pop back out silently, or absently worrying it with his teeth as he read.

He'd attempted to shape the metal into a tiny bust of Charles at one point, but his short, frequent glances must have given him away because after a few minutes the telepath glanced up at him curiously. The beginnings of the bust instantly became a shapeless metal blob as Erik glanced coolly at Charles, raising one brow as if to ask, _Yes, did you need something?_ And the other simply twitched his lips in a small grin before tucking his feet under him and returning to his book.

Some time, and several more bust attempts later, Charles shifted on the couch, stretching his legs out, rolling his neck to ease tense muscles, and then scooted towards Erik, turning so that his back was to the metal bender and one leg was swung up to rest on the arm of the couch. He'd propped himself up on one arm, palm smushing into his cheek as several strands of chocolate brown hair fell down over his brow. It didn't look very comfortable, and that assumption was proven correct when Charles shifted yet again, sitting upright once more and sliding over so that he was seated directly next to Erik. He lifted one leg up and rested that ankle on his other knee. It was a…tantalizing view, and Erik found it increasingly difficult to concentrate on anything other than the fact that Charles was sitting no more than an inch and a half away from him.

This close, it was clear that the telepath was getting tired, his eyelids drooping more than usual over his crystalline blue eyes, his rate of reading slowing just as his breathing did. Some time later the red plaid blanket draped over the back of the couch found its way onto both their laps, and Charles looked to be ready to take a nap. Moments after the blanket was settled, Charles leaned against Erik for support, glancing up momentarily to ask permission, to which Erik responded with crinkled eyes. Not a smile, really, since he was not prone to those, but simply a "yes." The telepath snuggled down a bit, still trying to read, but eventually the book was lowered and his head tilted to the side, pillowed on Erik's shoulder.

It was not quite the most comfortable of positions for Erik, so once Charles was well and truly asleep he carefully lifted his arm and moved it to rest behind the telepath's shoulders, which was probably more comfortable for them both, as Charles let out a small, happy sigh and snuggled some more. A surge of some foreign emotion welled up in Erik's chest at the sight, and he couldn't stop the immediate grin that formed. He forced it off as best he could and tried to turn his mind to something else. He could ponder the nature of his attachment to the telepath later.

Erik, having practiced his powers on the lump of over-used metal for quite some time, was now bored. He was a patient man when he had to be, but he wasn't the least bit sleepy, not with Charles pressed into him at the moment. That was when he spotted it. The camera, resting innocently on one of the far shelves in the study, film inside and practically ready to go, begging to be used. It only took a moment to decide, and then the camera was floating over to them as Erik was determined to take a picture of Charles using him as a pillow. Maybe for future blackmail purposes. It was absolutely not because he thought Charles was adorable like this and wanted to have a picture as proof of a moment in his life that was untouched by sadness or fear or rage, things that didn't seem to exist when Charles was near him. That was certainly not the reason.

Unfortunately, Erik had never had the distinct pleasure of using a camera before, had only seen others use them. Charles was quite fond of the thing, taking pictures almost daily to document their training and time together here at the mansion. It was just… Point and click, right? He hesitantly took the thing in hand (had to be careful, don't wake him, don't wake him!) and pressed the button on top, pointing it at the far side of the room. There was a click, a whirr, and then a bright flash lit the room for an instant. Another moment later, a picture slid out of the front slot. It was completely gray, and Erik frowned, puzzled. Hadn't he done it right? Why had it taken a picture of nothing? He stared at the square in his hand blankly as he tried to figure out what had gone wrong. Was there something blocking the front? A quick inspection proved there was not. Another glance at the blank picture nearly startled him.

An image was forming in the gray, what looked to be bookcases and the study desk more to the right foreground of the picture. Erik resisted the urge to drop the strange thing and instead waited out the picture, wondering if this was what happened every time. He'd never cared to examine the process before now. When the last tint of gray had faded, he re-examined the image and was pleased to discover it looked quite nice. So apparently the camera was working. He sent it back into the air with his powers, pointed it towards them and carefully pushed the button. The device jittered as he did so, though, and it ended up skewed to the left when the flash went off. Gritting his teeth in frustration he re-aimed it, ignoring the picture that popped out the front and drifted to the floor. Another try, this time the camera tilted right and upwards, almost completely missing them.

Why was this so difficult? A glance at Charles thankfully proved the telepath was still sound asleep despite the flashes. Attempt number three was almost right, but skewed diagonally. A flush rose on Erik's cheeks, rare. He was embarrassed at his inability to operate such a simple thing, and was relieved no one was around to see his failed pictures. No one but Charles, of course, but the man was still napping away on his shoulder. He had to get it right this time! And so it was that with his lower lip pulled between his teeth, a steady blush across his cheeks, and a murderous look of concentration severely offset by the gentle way he cradled Charles against him, that Erik Lehnsherr got his picture.

The camera was gently replaced on the shelf as he waited impatiently for the picture to clear. When it finally did, he decided that all the effort had been entirely worth it. He couldn't stop staring, thinking that he looked ridiculous in the photo but not really caring because all he cared about was Charles. Erik blinked at that one, traitorous thought, wondering at the swell of emotion it brought forth, the same one as earlier when he'd watched the telepath falling asleep on his shoulder. His train of thought prompted him to look at the real Charles, still breathing softly into his turtleneck.

Erik realized he must have gotten lost in thought as Charles stirred, pulling him back to reality. Sleepy blue eyes framed by sleep-flushed cheeks turned up to meet his, and as a pink tongue slipped out to wet those rosy lips Erik had to fight back his sudden urge to kiss them. Then they were curving into a delightful smile, and moving, and too slowly his brain caught up with the words leaving Charles' mouth.

"I'd tell you to take a picture, since it would last longer, but it would appear you already have."

The telepath smirked at the pink hue making its way back onto Erik's cheeks for the second time in less than an hour as the taller man struggled to find something to say.

"Ah, I… That was just… _Verdammt!_" He cursed softly before leaning in to capture Charles' lips with his own. They were soft, and sweet, and everything he'd hoped they'd be, but his heart dropped like a lead bar when he realized Charles wasn't reciprocating.

Erik pulled back, opening his eyes to meet the telepath's gaze with some difficulty, hoping his friend wasn't overly mad or offended. He hoped he hadn't ruined their friendship. To his surprise, the eyes staring back at him didn't look mad, and were instead wide and surprised, pale cheekbones flushed bright red as the full lips he'd just kissed formed a small 'o'. He offered a quiet "sorry" anyways, but wasn't sure if that was the right thing to say. Charles responded by shaking his head vigorously.

"No, don't be sorry, just… kiss me again?" A smile quirked at the corner of his mouth as Erik leaned in, the soft press of their lips turning into a lazy, sensual exploration of each other's mouths. It turned into an evening well-spent, and when a suspicious Raven later asked how their afternoon's practice had gone, taking in the slightly rumpled hair and clothes, and flushed, kiss-swollen lips, Erik volunteered that he had tried some photography that afternoon, and the end result had been quite rewarding.


End file.
